Ten - Part 1

by Sin Ribbon

  “I am,” Isaac replies.

  “And ... Oh! I see you’re heading to Pittsburgh. I tell you, if there’s one place that needs God right now, it’s Pittsburgh. News’ blowing up something awful about those disappearances. So you’re here for mission work, is that right?”

  “Yes, you could say that. The situation in Pittsburgh is the reason I’ve chosen to come, and the church was gracious enough to accommodate my request.” His Setswana accent lilts his words with a storyteller’s conviction.

  “Well, we’re glad to have you. Can always use more people doing the Lord’s good work.”

  “As I intend to do.”

  The clerk stamps Isaac’s passport and hands his documents back. “You take care now, and have a pleasant stay in the United States. God bless.”

  “And to you, sir.” Isaac nods and heads towards the gate for his connecting flight.

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  Another hour and a half of cramped seating, dry air, and abysmal peanuts pave the way to the Pittsburgh International Airport. Due to the flight’s diminished number of passengers, Isaac makes it off the plane quickly and hurries towards the lobby.

  Evening has set in. The sunset’s orange hues have vanished over the horizon, leaving streaks of blue night visible through the airport skylights. Sprawling lines of fearful citizens wait for clearance through the security checkpoint. Isaac overhears murmurs that choking clouds of dust swallowed bodies whole, phones and cameras exploded without a trace. They groan about the media’s skepticism while blustering the validity of eyewitness accounts.

  Isaac strides past the jittery masses, his eyes glancing at them with sympathy. He knows their loud, frantic faces will find no answers, no matter their destination. Determined, the Botswanan firms his grip on his bag as he passes them.

  Ahead, he spots a familiar face waiting in front of the row of doors leading outside. He halts the moment he sees her—brown hair illuminated by the fluorescent lighting and twinkling eyes of blue and brown. She meets his gaze, no doubt expecting him. He chuckles, astounded, and continues walking towards her.

  Isaac slows as he nears the young woman. Their eyes lock in a tango of fluctuating trust. Tracing up and down her form, he attempts to gauge the reality of her presence. Beyond that layer of woman beats a heart made of pure perception.

  He stops just a couple feet in front of her. She stands in a long, blue jacket, looking up at him with frail eyes. Her waif-like demeanor suggests long-carried exhaustion.

  The young brunette offers a smile. “I’m glad you made it safely. Thank you ... for coming. We could use your help.”

  Before he can reply, her practiced stoicism withers. She squeezes her arms around his waist and allows the tears to come.

  He places a comforting hand on her head. “I will do what I can. Please, I would love to know your name.”

  She steps away to dry her eyes with her sleeve. “It’s Siha ... and what do you go by now?”

  “Isaac.”

  ~ FORTY-ONE ~

  Siha

  The march up the laminated stairs to Thane and Orion’s apartment stretches like a painful moment in time. Even as the ten coalesce, an arduous task lies before her. The future voices of indignation and fear echo in her thoughts, churning her stomach with dread.

  Isaac trails behind her, likely sensing that a heavy moment awaits as well.

  On the third floor, Siha takes a deep breath as she turns the knob to Thane and Orion’s front door. An eerie creak accompanies its stubborn weight, resisting her attempt at discretion. Peeved, she thrusts it open.

  Light from the kitchen and living room lamps illuminates the expanse of Thane and Orion’s apartment. The shades have been pulled in a rebellious act to resist the night’s ingress. Minutes after midnight, Siha enters the apartment with the newcomer behind her. Curious eyes immediately dart to them, and she recognizes two new sets among them: the older woman and little girl on the street from the day before. The two of them sit on the couch, rigidly shying away from the upholstery as if ready to leave at a moment’s notice.

  Siha hears Sirius behind Orion’s bedroom door, whining for freedom.

  Orion, Madison, Riya, and Sebastian greet the brunette with a smile, glancing at the unknown man behind her with surprised interest. The sound of the front door spurs Thane to emerge from his bedroom and into the hallway. His eyes, still ringed with sleeplessness, soften when he sees her.

  Siha smirks at Sebastian who stands in the kitchen blowing on a steaming cup of coffee. “I trust you knew we were coming?”

  He sips his beverage. “Hard not to.”

  “And I see you’ve found eight and nine,” she chimes. Beaming with charismatic warmth, Siha turns to the newcomers and extends her hand to the youngest person in the room. “I’m Siha. What’s your name?”

  The girl shrinks back, clutching the woman’s sleeve. “... Qiu.”

  Qiu reaches out to shake Siha’s hand, but her caregiver pulls her away. The woman rises to her feet, keeping her unnerving eyes on Siha. “I’m Olivia. Your friends have given me the rundown, but apparently you’re the one to consult for the full version.”

  “I suppose I am, and I promise to explain everything soon.” Siha moves past Olivia and into the center of the living room. She gestures towards their new guest. “Everyone, this is our tenth.”

  Isaac places his duffel bag in the corner near Siha’s cello case before greeting the room. “You may call me Isaac.”

  Madison perks up, intrigued by the unfamiliar accent. “Where are you from?”

  “Botswana. Specifically the capital, Gaborone.”

  The teen gapes with amazement, then turns to Riya, whispering, “Where’s that?”

  Riya wipes an embarrassed hand over her face. “It’s a land-locked country north of South Africa.”

  Nuances of doubt wash over Sebastian’s face. “Wait ... how could he have gotten here before Allister? That must be nearly a full day of travel.”

  “I had,” Isaac glances towards Siha, “advance notice. I was told to arrive on this day and so made preparations early.”

  Everyone casts a suspicious gaze towards Siha, all at once questioning the reach of her ability as well as her motives. Thane chooses to break the awkwardness by stepping forward to shake Isaac’s hand.

  “Ah.” Isaac pauses. “You are the one who caused the devastation.”

  Thane tenses and withdraws his hand while the others exchange looks of shock and disbelief. “I’d be curious to know how you learned that,” the black-clad man hisses.

  “I sense it in you—the darkness eating you alive.” Isaac looks to Orion and then to the young girl. “In you and you as well.”

  Orion scowls. Olivia cups a hand around Qiu’s head and tucks the child behind her.

  Isaac scans the room. “Where is the fourth?”

  “Delayed,” Sebastian retorts.

  Siha clears her throat as she moves to Isaac’s side. “He’ll be touching down soon.”

  The Brit sets his coffee on the table and crosses his arms. “Orion and I were just about to get him.”

  “Okay, good.” The words strain through Siha’s growing anxiety. Thane flashes a glare to express his irritation with their new guest before returning to his spot against the wall.

  “So,” the brunette sighs, “while Sebastian and Orion do that, I’m going to have a private chat with Isaac.” Siha politely shoves against the Botswanan as she ushers him out the door.

  “You do that,” Thane grumbles.

  A nervous laugh escapes the clairvoyant as the front door closes behind her.

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  Siha and Isaac stand beneath the few visible stars on the rooftop of the building. The brunette watches them twinkle for a moment, captivated by the strings of gravity that keep them in motion.

  “I’ve embarrassed you.”

  “Just a bit,” she quips. She pulls away from the stars to meet his umber eyes. “Don’t worry about it.”

  He
offers a wry smile, shoulders relaxing. “You look the same. How have you been?”

  She chuckles, saddened. “The same.”

  “It’s very good to see you.”

  The brunette smiles. “And it’s good to see you, but please, you need to watch what you say to them.”

  He firms, searching for the right words. “I can be more ... tactful, but know that I believe they can handle more than you think.”

  She chokes a scoff. “Easy for you to say.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because you learned everything on your own, organically.”

  His gaze wanders upward. “I don’t know everything, Siha.”

  The brunette juts her hip to the side. “You know what I mean. It needs to be organic for them too.”

  She exhales a romantic sigh as her feet carry her to the side of the roof overlooking the downtown lights of Pittsburgh. “It’s imperative that we trust each other. I’m not here to hoist my knowledge over them and push them down a specific path. I just want to enjoy my time, by their sides ... Whatever happiness comes from that is a gift.”

  He moves to stand beside her, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Ignorance is bliss?”

  “No. It’s more than that,” she corrects. “The Fates seek to rob us of our decisions, and I’ll be damned if I do the same to them. I intervene only when I have to, to avoid yet another devastating future.”

  Isaac stares at the multitude of city lights, at the small lives behind them, trying to find their way. “I know you see a great deal, Siha—more than I can imagine—but you can put your faith in God, in the world, in all of us.”

  “Pfft. When did you become so optimistic?”

  He laughs, a hardy bellow of pure joy. “You once helped me carry a great burden. I am here to return the favor.”

  Warmed, she half-smiles. “Well, I’m about to drop a truth bomb on them anyway. That should satisfy you.” With an exasperated chuckle, she moves to have a seat on the popular wooden box still idling on the roof.

  “Despite that, you do seem happier.”

  She brightens, whipping back to look at him. “... I’m finally here.”

  He smiles and walks over to join her on the crate. The two let the silence pass between them, feeling no obligation to break it.

  Nearly an hour passes as the clock moves into the early morning hours. Siha abruptly turns her head, as if distracted by a sound. “They’re back. Shall we?”

  She hops to her feet with the Botswanan in tow. As she strides for the door, he finally asks the question she was anticipating.

  “Siha, why didn’t you ask me to come sooner? I could’ve saved those people.”

  Hand on the door, she turns back, her mismatched eyes swimming with unknowable depth. “No, you couldn’t.”

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  Siha hears the familiar lilt of the elder Brit inside the apartment. “Yeah, that’s what I get for going through JFK,” he groans.

  She peaks into the dwelling before pushing the front door open. “Welcome back, Allister.” The brunette strides into the apartment with Isaac at her heels.

  “And bloody good to be back,” he grumbles between gulps of water. “And this must be the newest member.” Allister sets down his glass of water on the kitchen counter with a relieved exhale. “Isaac, right?”

  “Yes.”

  The Botswanan’s curt response raises Allister’s eyebrows but deters the Brit from inquiring further. He opts to wrap an arm around Orion’s waist, brushing it off.

  Sebastian, Riya, and Madison sit at the dining table across from Olivia and Qiu who each nurse a hot cup of tea.

  Thane, as usual, stands with his back against the wall, arms crossed and forehead tattoos emphasizing his impatience. Catching wind of the affection between his roommate and the elder Brit, he eyes Orion with a suggestive glance. Really? he mouths, deadpan. She reciprocates Allister’s embrace and sticks her tongue out, prompting a small but sincere smirk of approval from Thane.

  “Wow,” Madison muses. “All ten of us in one room.”

  “Yeah, and it only took four weeks to get here,” Riya sighs, face resting in her palm.

  “It is a little daunting,” Orion mutters. Allister rubs her shoulder and gives her a kiss on the head.

  Isaac approaches the group and pulls up the remaining dining chair to have a seat. A sea of wide faces falls on Siha, eager for information that may calm the surging peaks and valleys of their trust.

  She fidgets with her jacket for a moment and takes a long, deep breath.

  “Everyone ... I’m glad we’re all together. I know all of you want answers, but please try to temper your opinions until I’ve explained everything.” She clears her throat. “It’s funny; I’ve watched and looked forward to this moment for a long time, but I wish it could be happier. We stand at the precipice of a future set before us by terrible wills, and for ease of communication ...” She pauses, breath trembling. “We should name them.”

  Siha looks to Qiu. “Famine.”

  To Allister. “Pestilence.”

  To Orion. “War.”

  And finally to Thane. “Death.” She bites her lip and lowers her head behind a cascade of brown hair.

  For a moment, all is quiet. Her silhouette carves into the empty space, the silence of their watching eyes hardening the air in her lungs.

  Allister is to the first to shatter it, his voice cracking. “You can’t be serious. The Horsemen? The Four fucking Horsemen of the apocalypse? Is God himself going to come down and referee?”

  Siha shakes her head. “No, it’s not like that ...”

  Thane’s chest tightens. His gaze intensifies as a realization overwhelms him. “Behold I stand at the door and knock. I remember ... a voice said that to me in my dreams.”

  “The Book of Revelation, chapter three,” Isaac says flatly.

  Thane looks at Siha, face contorting with disbelief. “How is this possible?”

  The clairvoyant takes a step towards the black-clad man, longing to wrap her arms around him, but the time for honesty is now. Murmurings of confusion and shock begin to pour into the air, gradually increasing in volume.

  “You must be joking. God? Christianity?” Olivia blurts out.

  “Thane and I don’t even believe in God,” Orion protests. “What the hell are we supposed to think, Siha?!”

  “Wait a minute,” Riya argues, “I thought you said they were ancient forces. You’re saying the Bible is actually based on fact?”

  “Enough!” Isaac’s deep voice cuts the chatter in an instant.

  “I know this is difficult.” Siha lifts her chin and summons the confidence burning at her core. “The guise of the Horsemen is just a mask. They’re purposely limiting their powers, shaping their abilities to the nature of these fables. That’s why Pestilence spewed that gas that infects people with disease. War possesses those around her. Famine rots food away, and Death—” She stops short, teary eyes extending sympathy.

  A conflicted Olivia strokes a hand through Qiu’s hair, keeping the child close. Allister and Orion take refuge in each other’s presence. Thane rubs his forehead, accepting the knowledge alone. The others—those permitted to keep their wills—sit with stolen voices. Sebastian looks to his older brother with nothing to offer but pain.

  “Christianity has the largest following in the world,” Siha continues. “The Fates chose recognizable symbols they knew would instill guilt, fear, and repentance, and they’ll manipulate the public to further that illusion.”

  Sebastian slaps a hand on the table. “The cameras! It was on the news. Bastard destroyed any evidence of his existence—phones, streets cameras, everything.” The air hisses through his teeth. “The implied strategy chilled me to the bone.”

  Olivia leers at Siha. “So you’re suggesting they’re enacting some kind of plan?”

  The clairvoyant nods.

  Madison fidgets with his fingers. “But how would he even know which cameras saw him?”

&nbs
p; Siha meets the teenager’s eyes, voice brittle under the weight of her words. “To decide everything, you must be aware of everything. This is a game, and we’re the players they’ve chosen.

  Allister scoffs. “And what sort of game are we playing?”

  “Orion—” Riya gulps. “I mean War ... in the airport, she said they wanted a challenge, that it had been a long time since they had one.”

  “Yes,” Siha replies, resolve waning. “We’re pawns of amusement, nothing more. They want to break us, turn us against each other. This is a battle of wills, and they specifically chose people who have found strength through suffering.”

  Olivia stares, pensive. She holds up her palm, and a pinprick of light flashes into existence, surprising the others. “So these entities—whatever they are—gave me this power?”

  “All of ours. As much a gift as they are a curse binding us to destiny.”

  “You talk about them like they’re gods,” Olivia retorts.

  Orion wiggles her fingers in air quotations. “Deciders.”

  Siha smooths her forehead with her fingers, attempting to wipe away her wrinkled brow. “I wish I possessed the words to explain their nature, but they defy human understanding. The way they reason, operate, and experience the world ... Their ways are not our ways.”

  Isaac shifts. “You quote the Book of Isaiah, Siha? For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. You compare them to the Almighty?”

  “I know you’ll disagree, Isaac, but it could be they inspired the Bible, influencing the humans from thousands of years ago.” She sighs. “But it remains to be seen.”

  The Botswanan adjusts his glasses, eyes narrowing behind them. “You’re right; I do disagree, but I will not debate it here. It is supposition at best.”